Among the things John liked about this tavern, aside from not only one, but two chairs to accommodate his large body; was the readiness with which the barkeep and tavern owner supplied him with good whiskey. He imagined it was partly because he paid good coin for what he drank, and drank quite a bit. In addition to that, though, he probably kept some ne'er do wells out of the tavern, or at least kept them from causing any trouble for him.

He entered and ducked his head in acknowledgment of Jacques' presence, though missed the cue for his approach. The smell of stew and bread weighed heavily in the air as he walked over to one of the chairs sized large enough for him, the one next to it occupied by a man scribbling furiously on paper. He sank into the chair, suddenly realizing how long he'd been walking around the city, and waved a pretty young girl over, ordering two bowls of hearty stew, as well as a bottle of that whiskey Jacques had behind him on that high shelf. He flipped a couple of thick golden marks on the table as she left, quickly fetching his meal.

He took the time to listen to the end of the story from a slender man in the corner. He plied his trade well, and John found himself staring silently as he wove his yarn to the end. He clapped softly with the rest of them as the serving girl returned smiling in that pleasant-but-distant way serving girls did. She laid both large bowls in front of him, spoons in each, and a nice thick wedge of bread half stuck in the stew. John smiled as much at the stew as at the whiskey. Jacques' bread, or whoever's it was, was great, and everything ordered in the place always came with a nice piping hot piece of bread, and since they served so many, it was always fresh from the ovens. His eyes drifted to the big wolf that Fennik had managed to befriend, and pinched off a bit of bread, dipped it in the broth of his stew, and clicked his tongue softly at the dog. It was huge compared to most, and a lot of people didn't know how to react to such a huge animal. John knew the secret was to act like a member of the pack. Be calm, and most importantly, share. The direwolf padded over, surprisingly quiet for its bulk, and gently took the proffered bread, gulping it down quickly. For a moment, it looked back up at John, as if wanting another. Not begging, mind you, direwolves did not beg for their food. Just as quickly, though, it looked back at the fae sitting atop a barstool, and made her way back.

Gotta protect the young ones, I guess.

He wondered if the wolf would bring Fennik, so the fae could have a morsel as well. He smiled a little.

Tonight was going to be a good night.